


Under your touch

by SketchLockwood



Category: The White Queen - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-08
Updated: 2014-03-08
Packaged: 2018-01-15 01:14:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1285717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SketchLockwood/pseuds/SketchLockwood





	Under your touch

He said nothing, taking Anne's hand in his own before pulling her close. Kissing her with passion, tasting her lips. And then her tongue. Her arms wrapped around him, pulling him close, her veins burned with the hot blood of pure desire. Too long had passed since they had been so passionate, too long since their love had shone. Once they had been the jewels of the royal court, the newly weds all knew did love each other. And then it had all gone wrong. George, Edward and of course, the Princes. But now they could relax, now they could be, and could be happy. For now it was they who had the power, they who wrote the rules. 

She could not help but find it attractive, her Richard, the one time Duke of Gloucester, the man who had seemed so helpless to obey the word of other men now held England in his grasp. He held England as he held her, held her heart. Her hand stroked his cheek as his head dipped, his lips taking their pleasure from her neck, gentle kissing burning her skin feeding his own desire. She felt it so as he pulled her too him. She gulped, moving her hands to offer him the strings of her bodice. He spared no time, moving his kisses south as he ripped the strings of her bodice away with ease, one hand pulling the fabric away from her torso, desperate to expose bare flesh to his burning touch. She gasped as his hands touched her, delicate, soft. He spared no time, his fingers toying north, his lips teasing south. 

She pressed against the wall, hands meeting cold stone as she submitted to his touch, closed her eyes to hide wanton desire. She needed more. Yet she would not hurry him in his work, would not take from him this moment where he, her husband, her king, could take in as much of her as it did him to please. His hand touched her naked breast, a gentle caress before the shoot of pleasure as his fingers stroked their centre. She gasped, her body arching to his touch, leaning forward to his will and into his arms as his lips ran over her breast, his hands now playing at her skirts. She could not wait for the inexperienced hands of a man with skirts, it took but a moment at her control for the remainder of the dress to fall to the floor, a moment more for her husbands eyes to take her in. His tongue ran over his lips, like the tongue of a dog desperate for his fill, desperate to cure the hunger which ached within. 

Hunger which she saw with delight had reached his most sensitive parts. She stepped close, quick to strip the fabric from his upper half. She gently kissed across his chest, pushing him back toward the bed. Straddling him as he fell back upon the feather mattress, her kisses heading south, over his navel to the top of his hose. He gulped, sighing in pleasure as hot breaths replaced the cold as fabric left skin. Her kisses sending pleasure through his body, as fire to gun powder. He gasped, a quiet moan leaving his lips. Never ending as she emerged, her hands encasing him as she shifted, kissing his lips with passion so pure it should have been sin. His hands reached her sides, tipping her to her back moving his hips with the pace of her hands as his tongue danced with hers in lovers harmony. 

Their teeth brushed; their bodies heated. Both cried out as finally they met, gripped by pleasure and panting with breathless desire. Their names merged as their voices muffled in each others kiss, hands left no inch untouched, no part in want of more. 

Both spent lay in each others arms, entwined in the embrace of the closest of couples, bodies pressed against each other with reluctance to leave.


End file.
